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Remember When I Said I was Moving?: An Awkward Update

Hey there! OMG Michigan is great! I moved successfully and I started my new job and I love it. The weather is a little cold, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. The people are great and I’ve already made loads of friends. My apartment is gorgeous and my new boyfriend treats me like a princess. I’m extremely happy. It was the best decision I ever made to move here. I don’t miss home at all.

This is the blog post that I was intending to post a month ago. I had planned on moving and getting comfortable and then updating you all briefly on my new life. Just a few brief posts because I was going to be too busy with my new job and my new life to go into too much depth. But here I am, sitting in the same town with the same job telling you all that nothing has turned out the way I had planned.

Let’s back up a moment, shall we?

If you’re new here and you don’t know what’s going on I’ll brief you quickly:

I was offered a job in Michigan that I accepted

I was to move right after Christmas

I had an apartment lined up

I quit my job

I packed up all of my belongings

It was hard for me to make the decision to go to Michigan for many reasons. I don’t hate change. I loathe change. I mean, change seriously puts me into an anxiety-ridden panic mode. Just ask anyone in my family how I react when Thanksgiving dinner isn’t cooked by my mother. I actually just updated the software on my iPhone when it has been available how many months ?? And to be honest, I’m not adjusting well. I feel as if my phone is a stranger to me. The bond I had with iOs7 has been broken and I’m just…ugh. My abandonment issues affect more than just my human interactions.

My point is that it took a lot for me to commit to Michigan. Many friends had to go through the pros and cons and after numerous sleepless nights filled with tears, panic attacks, banana splits and entire pizzas, I made the decision to just go for it. I actually became very excited. My best friend was already decorating my apartment and people were giving me money, furniture, and clothes to help me out. It was amazing.

So about two weeks before the big move, Evanne (my best friend, for future reference) and I were going to browse furniture that someone was very generously giving to me for free. Before the trek to South Knoxville began, we obviously stopped to get some Chikfila because why on earth wouldn’t we???

As we’re sitting in the parking lot and I’m devouring my chicken sandwich (no pickles, of course) I receive a phone call from the man who had promised me this job. I answer the phone with excitement because every time we spoke thus far it always involved details about my job and the things I’d be doing and it just really reassured me that I was making the right decision by going. Immediately, I knew something was wrong because instead of greeting me like a normal human being he proceeds to say, “Marki, I am so sorry…”

If you can think of any conversation that began with “I am so sorry” that ended well, please feel free to comment below and tell me about it because it might restore my faith in this particular phrase. But for me, nothing good came from this opening statement.

Long story short I didn’t get the job. Now, you’re probably thinking, “I thought you already had the job?”

Yeah I thought so, too.

Basically some people higher up in the system weren’t impressed by my sparkling resumee which glistened with my experience in waiting tables…big surprise, right?

Well, it was a friend of mine that offered me this job. He knew I didn’t finish college. He knew the only experience I had in this business was NONE. I told him everything straight up and he legitimately told me,

“Marki, I know you and I know you’ll do great and I have full authority to hire you.”

Turns out he didn’t and my lack of education and experience prevented me from advancing in a career I had no intention pursuing.

My first instinct, and probably yours, is to think this guy is either

a) a misleading asshole or b) just an idiot

but I seriously have no hard feelings towards him. I know he didn’t intentionally do this to screw me over. If anything, I am grateful to him for even thinking highly enough of me to move me out of the state to work with him regardless of my lack of experience. Really, I was flattered. I do think that he overstepped his bounds, telling me I had a job when in reality I really didn’t, but hey, I’m far too lazy to hold onto any hard feelings. My list of people to be pissed off is far too long to include him.

And truthfully, I’m so fucking happy I didn’t go. I mean, really. I didn’t want to go. I had eventually convinced myself that I wanted to go but deep down, I was terrified and not in a thrill-seeking spontaneous way. I felt very pressured and overwhelmed. I was decently convinced that I was going to get up there, suck at my job, get mugged on the mean streets of Michigan, go home and hang myself in my bathroom with a note attached to my forehead that says, “Lol typical, right?”

When I got off the phone with him, I cried for probably the rest of the day. I mean, disgusting Kim Kardashian crying. Evanne didn’t say anything to me. She just started the car, put on my favorite One Direction song and drove straight to the mall. We walked into Sephora and she grabbed a tissue and cleaned my face because it was tinted black from all of the mascara and eyeliner I had on. She then said “pick anything out that you want”. If you’re ever curious as to what you need to do in order to make me feel even a little better, that’s a pretty good fucking start. She truly is a light in my life and I fucking love her. GOD.

The reason I was so upset wasn’t because I wasn’t moving. It was because I was mortified. I had made such a big deal about moving. To friends, family, coworkers, and strangers. Hell, I was telling regulars at work to say their goodbyes because I had put in my two weeks notice. I was moving and my whole social circle knew about it. Also, people were giving me shit. I’m talking money. People fucking gave me money!!!! How embarrassing is that??? I felt like an idiot. These people had so much faith in me that they had literally invested in my future. How was I supposed to tell everyone that I wasn’t going?

I just wanted to crawl into a hole and eat macaroni and cheese and then slit my throat and bleed out in my bathtub.

But I sent out private messages to the people that donated and promised to give the money back and they were understanding and very supportive which I truly appreciated because that was pretty hard for me to do. I told my job “lol jk” and they let me stay which was also pretty cool because I’m half certain that they were more excited about me moving that I was.

Another hard part of all of this was where I was going to live. I had been living on my sister’s couch for several months and it was just getting to the point to where I was drowning in my own self pity and self loathing. I wasn’t happy and I thought I was getting myself out of hole by moving, but now that I wasn’t going anywhere, the idea of living on my sister’s couch was enough to put me into an institution. (No offense to my sister, but she knows that I wasn’t happy there.)

Luckily, Evanne and her family had an extra bedroom and told me I was moving in. And by “told me” that’s precisely what I mean. I wasn’t given an option. All of my stuff was already there because she was storing it for me until we packed it into a Uhaul to move and she literally told me she wasn’t going to give me my stuff back so I had to move in.

It truly is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I have my own room. AND A MOTHERFUCKING BED. OMG. Do you even know what it feels like to sleep in a bed that is

a) a bed and b) not sitting on the ground???

It truly is an underrated privilege. I suggest you go into your room and praise the mattress gods that you have one because I’m telling you, not having a bed for months really makes a difference in your overall satisfaction with life.

I’ll go into how wonderful my living situation is on another post because I could go on for another 1500 words about how much living with my best friend has helped my depression and anxiety. It truly has been fantastic. And I am eternally grateful to her and her mother.

I’m sorry this has taken me so long but as you now know, a lot has happened over the past two months. I didn’t even have a computer during all of this because mine decided to fucking crash like a piece of shit that it was but I am happily typing on my brand new Macbook. I have never been so happy to own a computer because now I can write all the time and not have to apologize every time I post. Which is exciting for me because I’m not even sorry half of the time but I just feel like it’s necessary and I always feel guilty if I don’t.

So expect a lot more from me because I have much to say. I’m 21 now so I have many beers to legally drink and many stories to share because if you thought my life was an alcoholic shit show before, you really have no idea.

And if I don’t post, it’s not because I have an excuse like living situations or lack of internet access. It’s because I’m lazy and don’t want to live. Which is so exciting!!!

I really appreciate everyone that had faith in me when they thought I was going to move and also to the people that still have faith in me even though really, I’m doing absolutely nothing with my life besides writing every month or two. I’m kidding. I mean, I’m not but like, kind of? I don’t know. I g2g.